


ChildTale

by Rewolf_flower



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Post-Undertale Genocide Route, Post-Undertale Pacifist Route
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-04
Updated: 2017-07-15
Packaged: 2018-11-12 01:57:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11151801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rewolf_flower/pseuds/Rewolf_flower
Summary: The pacifist ending after a genocide route in Undertale always fascinated me. What does this mean for Frisk, or Chara? Who is really in control now? What would happen to everyone? With this as the inspirational background I came up with this multi chapter fanfic to selfishly satisfy my own curiosity. Maybe one other person will enjoy it as well.





	1. The Ruins - part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And so it is the end of a genocide run. Sans waits in the grand hall, Asgore in the garden, Flowey is searching for help but the ending is inevitable. But do things really end here?

“Heya. You’ve been busy, huh? … So, I’ve got a question for ya. Do you think even the worst person can change…? That everybody can be a good person, if they just try?”  
*Reset*

“Heya. You look frustrated about something. I guess I am pretty good at my job, huh?”  
*Reset*

“Hmm. That expression… That’s the expression of someone’s who’s died twice in a row. Suffice to say, you look really… unsatisfied. All right. How ‘bout we make it a third?”  
*Reset*

“Hmm, that expression. That’s the expression of someone who’s died thrice times in a row… hey, what comes after ‘thrice’ anyways? Wanna help me find out…”  
*Reset*

“Quice? Frice? Welp, won’t have to use it again anyways…”  
*Reset*

“Hmm. That expression… That’s the expression of someone’s who’s died five times in a row. Convenient, huh? That’s one for each finger. But soon…”  
*Reset*

“Hmm, that expression… That’s the expression of someone who’s died six times in a row. That’s the number of fingers on a mutant hand. But soon…”  
*Reset*

“Hmm, that expression… That’s the expression of someone who’s died seven times in a row. Hey, that’s good, seven supposed to be a lucky number. Who knows, maybe you’ll hit the jackpot…”  
*Reset*

“Hmm, that expression… That’s the expression of someone who’s died eight times in a row. That’s the number of fingers on a spider. But soon…”  
*Reset*

“Hmm, that expression…That’s the expression of someone who’s died seven times in a row… Nope, wait, that’s defiantly nine, sorry. Or was it ten?  
*Reset*

“Hmm, that expression… That’s the expression of someone who’s died ten times in a row. Hey, congrats! The big one-oh! Let’s invite all of your friends over for a big shindig. We can have pie, hot dogs, and… hmmm… wait. Something’s not right. You don’t have any friends…”  
*Reset*

“Hmm, that expression…That’s the expression of someone who’s died eleven times in a row… Well, give or take. There’s nuance to this stuff. I don’t think I will be able to count very well from here. Count for me, ok? We’ll start from 12…”  
*Reset*

And Sans did loose count. No matter how many times he saw these same events play out in front of him over and over again, he couldn’t remember the number of times he had stood, staring down at _their_ lifeless bloody corpse. Sans couldn’t count how many times he had told them _they_ should be burning in hell for all of the sinful acts _they_ had committed and for the amount of monsters _they_ had murdered in cold dust. He couldn’t remember how many times he had pleaded with the kid, begging them to wake up, to stop this madness, to just please leave their world forever and never come back. Because if they really had been friends…

And sometimes, it almost seemed to work.

Sometimes, once their body lay still and the blood had harden and the room filled with the smell of rotting death, nothing would happen. Sans could stand up and walk out of there, looking for the last remaining survivors. Sometimes Sans could even sit down for a silent cup of tea with Asgore. There was nothing they wanted or even needed to talk about; not after all of the horrors they had seen together. But it was nice to sit in peace in quiet with someone you knew who wouldn’t stab you in the back with a dust covered knife.

Sometimes Sans could even make it back to Snowdin in one piece; empty, cold, quiet, dust filled Snowdin.  
And it was there Sans would curl up in his brother Papyrus’ bed and cry. There was nothing left for him to do but to cry. It was in these moments that thoughts of the future, and what one could do next, would creep up into his consciences without warning: the thought of how to go on without Undying, Mettaton, Toriel, Alphys and…. sweet innocent Papyrus. It was in these moments Sans would also realize and fear that at some point they might reset his world again and he would have to kill them… again. And again he would end up here crying and again…and again…

Was there even a future waiting for him?

And it was always in these moments, the moments when you realize you have no future, _they_ always reseted. Sooner or later, _they_ always reseted his reality, if he wanted it or not. And he would always fight _them_ , because he couldn’t afford not to care anymore.

Sometimes the resets were quick. So quick Sans barely knew it had happened before they were crossing knife and bone again. But Sans didn’t go down. Sans had to prove, not just to them but to everyone left in the Underground, that he had more determination than any heartless child had. Because Sans wasn’t going to let _them_ get any closer to Asgore, to the barrier, and to the six other powerful souls that hid beneath the castle.

But how long can one keep up the good fight? How many resets does it take before they start learning your every move, before they no longer can be tricked? Before long they no longer showed fear, dread, surprise or even regret in their dead red eyes.

At that moment all that is left is determination. But _they_ are also determined; determined to beat the gatekeeper that stands before _them_ , the one thing keeping _them_ away from _their_ last and final goal. _Their_ eyes stare straight forward as if knowing, knowing that with enough resets, and enough practice, no one stands a chance against _them_.

How many times in a row did _they_ die? How many times in a row did Frisk die at Sans boney hands? How many? Not that it matters in the end. All that mattered is that finally Sans couldn’t keep up anymore. In the last battle, it was Sans who laid on the ground covered in red liquid.

Sans tried to walk away from them, tried to continue to hold himself together as breathing became harder and harder. Somewhere in the distance he swore he saw Paps waiting.

“Do you want anything from Grillby’s?” Sans says out loud, to spite and stab at the unbreakable red soul in front of him.

I’m finally home…it’s all finally over… He whispered secretly to himself, the feeling of true release welling up inside of him.

It was then that they suddenly were standing before Sans, their eyes red, staring straight into the dark empty holes of his skull. The dark depths of Frisk’s eyes seemed to know neither empathy nor love. They looked neither sad nor happy as their empty gaze watched Sans die, signaling their victory. They said nothing but just stared forward, as if they weren’t really there. Those eyes…you can never forget those eyes…those crimson blood red…

Everything disappeared.

*Reset*

….............................................

“Sans…” The yellow flower hisses as he looks over my shoulder to the creature that is now suddenly standing behind me.

A blast of white explosive power had just narrowly passed by my head and blown away most of the of the small gentle golden flowers I had been gazing at while reminiscing about my Grandma’s house. Only the few that had taken refuge beneath my legs are now left, as well as the one I had been conversing with. The one I always talk to…

My one and only true friend…

Taking a glance over my shoulder I see the skeleton’s fierce gaze as he stares me down with one intense blue glowing eye. It is then I know, like the feeling of sins and guilt from a time long ago crawling down your own back, that I can’t trust him. I shouldn’t trust him. I know, for sure, he is going to be the real end of me. I can feel that, if he wishes, by his hands I will finally disappear forever from this nightmare of a life. Honestly, the idea is sort of relieving except I know it isn’t my time yet. I can’t give in to the temptation yet because someone out there still needs me. And as long as I am needed, I can’t just give into my deepest desires…at least not yet.  
I stand up and turn around, slowly, leaving the golden patch of flowers unprotected. My one friend curls himself around my arm, growling even louder, preparing for the enviable fight. Making sure to not expose my back, I carefully start to back away from the imposter.

I need to find a wall and stable footing. As long as I can protect my back, I can maybe fight him off long enough to run away…maybe…

My distrust in him has little to do with the fact he just appeared out of nowhere, full of rage and with death in his eyes. It has even less to do with the fact that he had almost obliterated me with a floating skull of a dragon that had just suddenly came into existence and disappeared again without a trace. Even the fact he is nothing more than a bleached white skeleton of death that wears outdated and oversized jogging shorts with a red stained, faded blue hoody doesn’t bother me. Hearing his name is enough to know that I should fear this monster.

I have been taught well to fear the one names “Sans”. I know, better than anyone, that “Sans” is the cause of all of my suffering. And he will cause even more if I am not careful.

“Sans…” I repeat to myself, a distinct chill running down my back. This name is only ever mentioned by their lips. Sometimes, when they would ask how “Sans” was doing to someone warm and friendly on the phone, they would say this name like it was a painful weight that just hung on the tip of their tongue. Sometimes, when they were alone in thought, the name “Sans” would just escape their lips, like wind whistling through the cracks in a window. But in most cases it would come out like a burning fire from deep within their throat, as they screamed out at me, making sure I knew I am the cause of their suffering. And Sans is the cause of my own.  
However, regardless of how they say the name, it always leads to the same violence…. stabbing outcome.

_“Why did you leave Sans! You promised you would stay with me FOREVER! You were the ONLY one I ever cared about! The ONLY one who was any fun to talk to, to play with! You were the ONLY one who understood me, could understand me, and truly accepted me for… me. You would you hold my hand when I was cold or scared, and always greeted me with a smile. So then why, WHY, after everything we went through, TOGETHER, did you REJECT ME. WHY did you reject me?! Why did you LEAVE ME!! Why couldn’t you LOVE ME! Why won’t you LOVE ME!!”_

I absentmindedly place my hand over the right side of my face, letting my hand cover up the scarred flesh I have there, as it begins to burn with the memories of their voice. These memories, these nightmares that haunt me both while awake and sleeping, go flooding through my veins, filling every part of my body with adrenaline. My feet carefully search the ground and create good footing between the rocks below me. I prepare to defend myself, to flee, or to even fight; what ever comes first. I have been training most of my life just for something like this.

_“You want to know about Sans huh?! YOU REALLY WANT TO KNOW?! Ha! I’ll tell you! I’ll tell you in a way so you can never forget!! NEVER FORGET HOW MUCH PAIN THAT BLASTED SMILE OF HIS HAS COST YOU!!”_

I lower my hand, exposing the entirety of my face and bringing both fists into a defensive position. I’m not stupid, I have learned from my past mistakes. I’m not going to make the same mistake twice.

Because Sans is someone I have to fear to survive.


	2. The Ruins - Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm trying best to make a clear distinction between Sans's past experiences and the present thoughts/situation presently happening in front of the "child". Switching between present tense and past tense within the same document proves to be much more difficult than I originally thought so I apologies for when I slip up!!

“Do you really think even the worst ….person can change? That every….body can be a goo…good person, if they just…tr… try?” The kid’s eyes were swollen from tears as they tried to get their words out.

“Honestly kid, it is the only thing I want to believe now…”

Sans just had finally gotten over the shock of suddenly waking up back in Snowden on his bed of trash. He had been awaken from his nightmare with Papyrus suddenly charging up the stairs and banging on his door calling him, “Lazy bones” for being late to one of his three jobs. But regardless of his shock and struggles to try to get back to a normal life, he still didn’t know why Frisk had suddenly showed up out of no where, while he had been napping at his post, and asked him out on a date to Waterfall; to an empty bench hidden behind the flowing rivers. Why did they reset after finally defeating him? Why were they back here with him, again, like this? And why did it almost feel too good to be true.

“I’m so sorry Sans. I…I didn’t know what I was doing. I just…just…”

“Kid… Let’s not beat around the bush. Tell me, tell me why you…you just up and killed everyone?”

“I was weak…I couldn’t fight them off…I just…”

“Fight off us Monsters? Kid, we are push overs…”

“No…not you monsters…I mean I couldn’t fight off…Chara…”

Sans should have known better than to believe anything this murderer was telling him, but in that moment he felt almost relieved hearing there was more to the story than what had met his eye sockets one reset back. He had always been fond of the innocent friendly kid, possibly he even loved them, and to know that it wasn’t Frisk alone who was doing all of the mass murders eased the guilt and regrets Sans felt in his own soul. It felt…good…really good to know there was someone else he could blame for all of the senseless violence, and that someone was named Chara. It just made things so much simpler to think that way. Frisk could be labeled as gentle, innocent, and kind child who would never lift a finger to any monster. But it was Chara, the first fallen human, come back from the dead and joined with Frisk’s soul that was the real culprit of the entire genocide of monster kind Sans had experienced just a reset ago. Frisk wasn’t to blame. Frisk was just an innocent kid. It was all Chara’s fault.

And it wasn’t like Sans couldn’t relate. Sans knew that everyone had their own weaknesses, even if that weakness was just plain laziness to do anything to change or stop the situation as it played out in front of you…

“I’m to blame too kid. I waited... too long... before taking action. My inaction can be labeled as much of a sin as your horrible actions. But…I’m still not sure why you are here now? And why you want to tell me all of this?”

“Because… I want to change. I want to right my wrongs! I want to…” tears filled their eyes again, “To no longer have to look into Papyrus’s face and see him turning to dust. See all of them turning to dust and leaving me alone, so alone…with only their final words filling up my head…and the screams…those horrible screams…”

“So what are you going to do about Chara? If they were the one who was ruining the show before, what will stop them this time?”

Frisk shifted uncomfortably on the bench, their feet dragging into the ground. “I already took care of them,” they quietly said, “Just before the last reset. I put them to rest so they couldn’t come back, wouldn’t want to come back. It’s only me now.”

It would have been so much simpler to believe that somehow Frisk took care of Chara, even after they had ended up slaughtering all of monster kind, Sans insisted to himself. It would be so much simpler to just take Frisk’s hand and help them heal, giving them the strength to help heal all monsters, and help set free everyone trapped in the Underground. It was what everyone wanted. It was what Papyrus wanted. But was it…

Frisk looked up at Sans, their eyes swollen shut with tears. They suddenly reached out forward and pulled Sans to them, burring their face into Sans’ bony chest. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry Sans. I...don’t deserve to live do I…you can kill me now if you want. I…won’t…I…can’t fight back anymore. I…I will never reset again…”

Those words hit Sans’ funny bone and suddenly his own arms were around Frisk, pulling him in closer. He could hear Papyrus's words repeating in his head.

 

_Everybody can be a good person if they just try…_

 

“We’ll fix this,” he said, a tear quietly falling from his face, “We will fix this and make it good…together.”

And they held each other, for what seemed like days, just crying.

….................................................................................................

The radiant blue from that monster’s eye suddenly fades to black, leaving only the black emptiness of the sockets gazing down at me. Though Sans’ face is now more frightening to look at than it was when his eye glowed blue, I can tell by the way his body suddenly stands still, frozen still, that he is no longer preparing for another attack, but instead …is standing there in shock and confusion. Possibly confused by the horrid child staring up at him. Or shocked by how painful my mangled face looks. Or possibly just stunned that such a creature as I could actually be alive.

People staring shocked at my face isn’t something new. In fact, people daily stop in their tracks at the mall, on the street, and even at school just to stare at me. It is always the same. They stand, lost in thought, as a whole list of horrible thoughts and possibilities race through their minds trying to figure out how such a monstrous face could come into existence. Personally, I have become numb to all of their stares and generally stay away from interacting with almost anyone because of it. I don’t have time to explain my life’s story nor do I care to pity people and relieve them from the guilt they feel just from staring at me. But this time, just this once, I’m happy to have the upper hand. Happy that just by looking at my face, Sans is rethinking his actions.

Because the fact that half of my face is sealed shut with torn, red skin, swollen welts and half healed scars, and my eye socket has been completely gored out and then sewn shut is nothing new to me. It is my reality. A reality _they_ won't let me change.

Flowey suddenly appears in front of me, trying to look big and strong, as if trying to keep Sans away from me. A small smile crosses my face; Flowey truly is my one and only friend in this dark world.

“You smiley garbage, you need to stop this nonsense and open those sockets of yours!! This isn't the same as before! They aren’t the same as before. We shouldn’t be here like this and you know it. So stop being such a bone head…” Flowey suddenly stops and winces at his own horrible pun. But Sans still stands there, generally un-moving, his eyes remaining black.

“What do you mean… this is ….not the same as… before?” he says slowly, his voice so low it was almost growling. But Flowey continues to position himself right between me and Sans.

I crouch down to better prepare myself in case I needed to run. Flowey and I know the drill well. As soon as things get too heated, I will run to the nearest safe point while Flowey dives under the ground, coming after me later. We have successfully done it so many times before to get out of sticky situations with them. If this skeleton suddenly decides to go on the attach again, i’m sure our plan will work here too. Except for…

Except for the reality that we are presently in a place I know nothing about, let alone where the safest places to run and hide to is. The bed of golden flowers reminds me of my grandmother’s garden somehow but everything else about this tunnel is completely foreign. Even if I were to run, I have no idea what I might encounter deeper within the tunnels before me. Reaching up I place my hand over my pounding heart, feeling the fear of the unknown welling up inside of me.

“Sans, wake up and look at what is right in front of you! The situation should be obvious already! Do I have to spell it out? Pathetic. Get a clue, maggots for brains. There is no way this is the same reset as before. The players are all different now! You’re different now! And who knows what else has changed! We can’t be rushing blindly into this without being careful!”

Sans growls, his bony face changing from an almost smile to a frown. “Why should I believe you? After all you have done to me and to…my brother…? And why should I believe anything they have to say? After they had promised…no…insisted that there could be no more resets!! Why shouldn’t I just end this now, once and for all, and make sure we can never repeat this all again! Why shouldn’t I finally end this horrible game of murder forever!?!” His eye begins to glow again, brighter than before.

I feel my heart beginning to speed up as I prepare my mind for what I was going to have to do. I shouldn’t be surprised, I have already been taught not to trust this “Sans”.

A beam of light suddenly shot out from above his blue eye.


	3. The Ruins - Part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I promise after this a little bit more time will be spent explaining what is going on, both with Sans's past and what ever is happening in the present...at least generally more than what has happened so far....

“No more resets.”

Frisk declared to Sans as they watched the sunrise together, the first of many Sans hoped. Their small but warm hand was wrapped tightly around Sans’ bony fingers. Frisk holding onto Sans’ hand was nothing new. They had been doing it since their last talk; since they both had apologized for their horrible sins that had happened during the last reset. It felt good to not be alone during that last run, knowing that someone understood who and what they really were. But now they held onto Sans hand tighter than usual, as if Sans would just disappear from their life the moment they let go.

  
“Really? You will never reset again?” Sans tried not to sound skeptical.

  
“No more. I don’t want to reset anymore…I... can’t do it anymore... I... am done with that part of my life. I’m ready to start actually living my live. Live life with Toriel, Papyrus, Alphys, Undyne, Mettaton…everyone. Especially…” Their voice trailed off, as if tasting the words in their mouth before speaking, “You Sans.  I want to spend the rest of my life with…” Their grip got even tighter making Sans wince slightly, “Sans…” a tear began to form in their eyes. The same eyes that always looked away from Sans’s face as if they weren’t worthy enough yet to meet Sans eye to eye. “Please…I need you in my life…I can’t…please…will you... always be at my side? I can’t…I can’t keep doing this alone…”

  
Sans smiled, brushing away the hairs from Frisk’s dirty face. Their eyes were shut full of tears, almost as if they were too afraid to look Sans directly in the eyes. Possibly afraid of Sans’s answer. Afraid Sans wanted to finally leave them now that the barrier was broken and they were free on the surface.

  
“Frisk…” Sans said gently, leaving his hand to rest on their down turn face, “I’m not going anywhere buddy. I’ll always be your bone-freind, always.” Frisk muffled their chuckles as Sans winked at his own joke. “I’ll never leave your side again…not ever…We will always be there for each other as we start this new path in our lives.”

  
Frisk suddenly relaxed, smiled and let loose a gentle innocent laugh. It was the first time Sans had heard them laugh so naturally since the last reset, since the months they had spent together trying to right all of the wrongs. Even as they had traversed together through Snowden, Waterfall, Hotlands, and The Core together, side by side and hand in hand, Frisk had never been able to laugh like this. It was small but Sans could feel the weights being lifted off their shoulders. _People truly can change_ he mused to himself.

  
Frisk took a deep sign of relief and turned his eyes to the golden orange sky, smiling happily. “Sans…thank you. You don’t know how much this means to me.” Frisk leaned their shoulder into Sans’ side, letting their weight fall into their trusted friend.

  
“Anytime kid,” Sans said as he rested his hand on the top of Frisk’s head. Frisk suddenly reached up, grabbed  Sans’s hand and gently moved it to their shoulders. Sans looked down to see why and saw that Frisk was looking straight at them, eyes completely open, smiling from ear to ear.

  
Without control, the cool smile that always embraced Sans’ face suddenly disappeared. In his mind he raced through his panicked memories, trying to remember the last time he had properly looked directly at Frisk’s face. They had been side by side for days, years if you counted all of the resets. So then why did the kid look like a stranger? Frisk’s expression suddenly changed to concern as he could tell something was upsetting Sans.

  
“Sorry kid…” Sans said quickly, trying to come up with an excuse to look away and take back his hand, “I think a fly just flew into my eye socket. Heh…just rattled my bones a little hehehe,” He took his arm away from Frisk’s side and covered his own face, trying to reach into his socket to find the invading critter, “Whlep, don’t let that bother you kid. I think it is time to get a bone in the race and catch up to everyone else,” He laughed nervously at his own joke, his hands still covering his own eyes, “I’m sure Toriel will worry if we stall too long.”

  
Frisk nodded, smiled sweetly and slowly got up from the ground. Sans could hear them giggling as they started to skip down the mountain path, “Come on Sans, I want to catch up to everyone together.” They suddenly stopped to turn around and hold out their hand towards Sans, so they could continue on together,  hand in hand, as they had been doing during their entire pacifist existence. Sans hesitated but quickly changed his mind and took their hand as they led him to the others.

  
It would be so simple to just blame Chara for the past genocide of monsters. It would be so simple to believe that Frisk had finally taken care of Chara for good. It would be so much simpler to really believe that all of their wrongs, Sans’s included, had finally been made right, creating a bright future for both monster and human kind. Sans would finally get his happily ever after. That’s what he wanted, right?

  
_Everybody can be a good person if they just try…_

  
Sans really wanted to believe Papyrus’ss words more than ever right at that moment. Because right then, when he look straight into the eyes of Frisk, as they smiled with delight up at him knowing Sans would always be his closest and more dearest friend, he didn’t see the eyes of the innocent, gentle human he had learned to love while making it to the surface.

  
No…

  
No, instead…

  
Sans looked down at the kid’s head, trying hard to remember the time they first met and what they looked like then. What color were their eyes then? When was the real first meeting he had had with them, before any resets…was there ever a time there wasn’t a reset?

  
Because now all his memories could recall was the red, heartless eyes of the human who had watched him die in cold, lonely dust. And it was those same eyes he had just saw now, light up by the gentle light's glow. But now, deep in those crimson blood eyes also shone a tiny sparkle. A sparkle that hinted at the pleasure they had felt every time a monster had been killed over and over and over and over again...  
  
Sans felt chills running down his spine.

  
….....................................................................................  
  
“RUN!” I shout as I dart to the side, feeling the blast just nearly slip by my head. Flowey disappears but that is no concern for me. Flowey is good at staying out of sticky situations and finding the best places to hide. He can take care of himself. My job is to keep moving, keep from being struck down, until either I find a safe place or Flowey finds a place for me.

  
I rush towards the long pathway leading towards to what seems like the entrance, or possibly exit, to the tunnel system I am in, changing my direction from left to right randomly to keep the blasts off my back. I can see a large doorway coming up on my left. My eye catch a glimpse of the foreign emblem carved over the top. My sparing teacher had drilled into my head the importance of not running head first into unknown territory. The dangers that lurk behind that door could be worst than the situation I was in now but…where else can I go? Though I can’t hear Sans moving around the room behind me, his blasts are only missing my head by inches. Even if I could somehow make it back to the bed of flowers, it is not like I can hide there and be protected from Sans’ insistence to turn me into a pillar of fire. I don’t really have another choice.

  
I run through the door and find the room to be pitch dark except for one spotlight shining on a small patch of grass. Across the room I can see the exit, glowing slightly in the darkness. The blackness of the room is menacing, just daring me to try my luck. My mind goes blank while my world is suddenly still as I debate what I should do next.

  
A bone cuts by my scarred cheek and loges itself into the patch of green in front of me. My instincts suddenly kick without a second more thought as more bones fly by, trying to block my escape.

I leap over the barrier of bones with ease, stretching out my leg in participation for a smooth and quick landing. However, just before my foot could embrace the ground on the other side, I feel something cold wrap around my body, violently jerking me down towards the ground. I fall on my side, my left shoulder and blind eye banging against the dusty ground. As I try to struggle back to my feet the same cold sensation comes over me again, thrusting me back again the crumbling bone wall. I scream out in pain, digging my hands into the soft earth beneath me and throwing what ever I could find there wildly towards the direction I guessed Sans might be.  

  
A sudden coughing fills up the room and I can feel the cold ropes dissipate around me. Without hesitation I quickly get back to my feet, racing towards the open doorway, knowing it was my only chance for survival.

  
A split moment later I can feel the graveyard of bones explode behind me, violently thrusting me forward into the next room. My back stings, but I can’t stop and evaluate the damage. Instead I take a quick look around and note the double stairway leading to yet another open doorway. Racing over the red fallen leaves that littered the ground I reach the stairways, scrambling desperately trying to get up them faster than my legs seem to be willing to move.

Halfway up a sudden wall of bones rise up in front of me, crumbling and destroying the stone stairs themselves. I have only enough time to twist my body in mid movement so it is my back, not my head, that slams against the newly formed barrier. Crying out for air I can feel a cold chill overcome my body again. All I can do is grasp my hands around the stairs’ ruble before my body is thrown into the air without mercy.

  
Flying up into the air gives me a moment to think, a moment to re-contemplate the situation. Grandma had taught me about magic and how she could cook with it. But I have never heard of a magic that could make one fly. The higher I fly the more I know that falling is going to hurt, a lot. I take a glance at the open doorway, seeing Sans slowly appear from the darkness there, his one eye glowing a fierce bright blue as he stares, completely emotionless.

  
It looks exactly the same as when _they_ get angry.

  
I clench onto the rocks still within my grip, take a deep breath, bracing myself for the worst case scenario. And then, with all of the strength I have left, throw the sharp shrapnel in my hands at Sans’s face. He reacts quickly, too quickly, and in a flash is out of harm’s way.

And I am falling quickly back down to the ground.

  
I prepare my body for impact, making sure to crumple up when I hit the ground and use the left over momentum to roll to safety, limiting the amount of pressure my legs have to take. Without letting myself think, I stand up, ignoring the stinging hell I feel throughout my body and start to run up the other set of stairs.

  
Sans is coughing behind me, yelling about something I can’t understand. But I won’t let it distract me and continue up the stairs for freedom. Midway up and I listen carefully for any clues of another bone wall appearing and blocking my way, but it doesn’t come. My feet touch the landing and quickly aim for the open door. Only a few more steps and I will be free. I reached out my hands, hoping to pull myself through…

  
“BURN IN HELL!!!”

  
Suddenly another wall of bones appears from nowhere, shutting off the entire entrance to the door itself. Before I can even hit this new wall I feel cold figures wrap themselves around my heart, arching my entire body backwards. My body floats off the landing, falling down, falling fast…

I have no control over my body anymore.

My back hits the ground first and even though there is a bed of red leaves to break my fall the sudden impact kicks all of the air out of my lungs. In shock I struggle to find oxygen as the room spins around me. I try to roll over to my hands and feet, hoping it would be easier to breath, but my body refuses to move. Every breath of air in hurts as much as no air at all. I try to scream, to make any sound at all so my lungs can possibly work properly, but nothing but a forced gag comes out. I open my one good eye, vision blurred by tears and dust. Blinking my vision back I notice Sans standing over me, his one eye glowing in anger while the other is dark, cold and empty. He raises a bone high over his head, his eyes showing no mercy. I try to scream again, but out of my airways come only dust and more tears.

I am going to die. Maybe...just maybe... it won't be so bad…

I felt a cool breeze wisp by my face as something soft like petals rubs up against me, using long vines to roll my body over, out of harm’s way.

“Sans, stop! Please stop!! They didn’t know!” The voice is crying. I know his voice well, but I also know that he never cries, that he has no ability to feel empathy for someone else. As oxygen begins to reach my lungs I opened my eye to see Flowey stretching up over me, his leaves stretching out to create a protective barrier. One of his beautiful yellow petals has been torn to shreds. I look down and see the bone is now embedded into the ground beside us.

“Sans, they didn’t know! They don’t know anything! Please Sans, please…Please just stop…Please…they don’t know…” Wet tears drip down Flowey’s petals, falling onto my face. In shock I feel my second wind suddenly pulsating through my body as I reach up to pull Flowey down, to cover and protect him with my entire body.

“Wait, what? Stop it Sprout!!” I can feel Flowey trying to push again me but I refuse to move.

“Don't...” I manage to wheeze out a single word, making sure to whip up my head to meet my attacker eye to eye.

Sans is staring down right at me, his eye not glowing nearly as bright anymore. I can feel my courage building up to protect the only thing that has ever showed me unselfish kindness in my world, “Don't…hurt…Don't…” Tears stream out of my eye uncontrollably, “Flowely…don't,” My voice is weak but I refuse to give up. I keep staring down Sans, trying to convince him of my determination to protect Flowey.

Slowly the glow in Sans’s eye disappears, both sockets remaining black, but he continues to stare me down regardless. He just stands there, for what feels like hours, examining my face; I can feel him piercing into my one good eye. His stare has weight, as if he is reading my soul and judging my every action up to this point.

Ever so slightly I notice two small pin pricks of a glow beginning to appear in his empty sockets. They looks sad, almost lost and confused. 

“…pleas….” I beg, feeling the tears begin to fill back up in my own eye again. Suddenly feeling physically weak, Flowey finally finds the strength to push me off of him and take back his position as _my_ protector. He grows up big and tall out of the ground and stands bravely between me and Sans. I let myself fall back into a sitting position, all of the adrenaline leaving my weak body. Gazing up at the back of Flowey I realize how torn apart his one petal is, and how broken his leaves are now. It’s my fault for being so weak, I know. More tears pour out of their own will.

“I’m…sorry,” I whispered to no one.

I hear Sans shuffling his feet uncomfortably and finally he backs away from us. I glance at him through Flowey’s missing petal and bent leaf.

Sans is standing there alone. His head dropped low as his still awkwardly shuffling through the dirt.  
  


In his mind all he can see the color of the kid’s eye as they had stared him down trying to protect that blasted flower. The color isn’t what he had expected and he doesn’t know how to explain it to himself.

The kid’s eye is the color blue, like the endless sea, like the vast sky…

Like Sans’ own.  
  
He feels shame for his actions. 


End file.
